


100 Themes

by VenomQuill



Series: Undertale [10]
Category: Dragon Age II, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 100 Themes, Dragon Age II Quest - The Last Straw, Gen, StoryFell, Violence I guess, tags will change with more stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2020-10-06 12:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: So, I'm trying my hand at the 100 themes challenge (finally. lol)This is probably going to be mostly Undertale, if not completely Undertale. I'll be using different AUs (particularly ones I haven't used often/never use) and will occasionally use the actual story of Undertale. lol Maybe add a few "original stories" as well, you know the not-fanfics. Should I do any crossovers? Hmm...Archive warnings will change when applicable.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> 100 themes as follows:  
1\. Introduction  
2\. Complicated  
3\. Making History  
4\. Rivalry  
5\. Unbreakable  
6\. Obsession  
7\. Eternity  
8\. Gateway  
9\. Death  
10\. Opportunities  
11\. 33%  
12\. Dead Wrong  
13\. Running Away  
14\. Judgment  
15\. Seeking Solace  
16\. Excuses  
17\. Vengeance  
18\. Love  
19\. Tears  
20\. My Inspiration  
21\. Never Again  
22\. Online  
23\. Failure  
24\. Rebirth  
25\. Breaking Away  
26\. Forever and a day  
27\. Lost and Found  
28\. Light  
29\. Dark  
30\. Faith  
31\. Colors  
32\. Exploration  
33\. Seeing Red  
34\. Shades of Grey  
35\. Forgotten  
36\. Dreamer  
37\. Mist  
38\. Burning  
39\. Out of Time  
40\. Knowing How  
41\. Fork in the road  
42\. Start  
43\. Nature's Fury  
44\. At Peace  
45\. Heart Song  
46\. Reflection  
47\. Perfection  
48\. Everyday Magic  
49\. Umbrella  
50\. Party  
51\. Troubling Thoughts  
52\. Stirring of the Wind  
53\. Future  
54\. Health and Healing  
55\. Separation  
56\. Everything For You  
57\. Slow Down  
58\. Heartfelt Apology  
59\. Challenged  
60\. Exhaustion  
61\. Accuracy  
62\. Irregular Orbit  
63\. Cold Embrace  
64\. Frost  
65\. A Moment in Time  
66\. Dangerous Territory  
67\. Boundaries  
68\. Unsettling Revelations  
69\. Shattered  
70\. Bitter Silence  
71\. The True You  
72\. Pretense  
73\. Patience  
74\. Midnight  
75\. Shadows  
76\. Summer Haze  
77\. Memories  
78\. Change in the Weather  
79\. Illogical  
80\. Only Human  
81\. A Place to Belong  
82\. Advantage  
83\. Breakfast  
84\. Echoes  
85\. Falling  
86\. Picking up the Pieces  
87\. Gunshot  
88\. Possession  
89\. Twilight  
90\. Nowhere and Nothing  
91\. Answers  
92\. Innocence  
93\. Simplicity  
94\. Reality  
95\. Acceptance  
96\. Lesson  
97\. Enthusiasm  
98\. Game  
99\. Friendship  
100\. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a cold morning, as every morning is in Snowdin, and Chara is on her patrol. However, today isn't just any boring old day in an empty forest. Something's... different. This patrol might just become a little more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find it on dA: http://fav.me/ddfgfd2

Scarce snowflakes danced on the chilly breeze. While the spruce that coated most of the snowy tundra were short and squat, one particular patch was choked with tall pines whose flush trunks impeded movement and interlocking needled branches blocked light and snow. A wide trail sliced through the clustered pines like a scar, reaching from a well-treaded path in the topmost cliffs in open green to a steep wall that surrounded the entirety of the forest. A deep blue violet wall contrasted the snowy region sharply. The ancient fluted pillars flanking the intricate doorway built into the wall clashed with the deep, natural order of the wood, if the trees clustered together so tight could be considered natural. The only bush in the pine forest grew beside the doorway.

A hooded figure stood against one of the pines, her back facing the trail and bright scarlet eyes on her feet. Though the black of her hoodie melted perfectly into the shadows around her, the pale fur that puffed along the edges of the hood ringed her already pale face interrupted by a light blush like a halo. She looked over her scarlet turtleneck, again something that would stick out of the snow _and_ the woods like a flare. A slight irritation at her brother’s clinginess sparked in her mind. _All the better to find you with, dear sister._ Then again, she probably shouldn’t be so harsh. Their mother did _encourage_ Asriel to stick to red and gold. Only Asriel’s ability to turn their mother’s heart into pudding allowed him to have more fashionable colors.

So long in her thoughts was she, that the loud _creeeeaaaaaaaaak_ of the ancient violet door opening barely registered with her.

Chara’s head snapped back and her wide scarlet eyes searched the doorway. Out came a human her age. Skinny and frazzled and dirty, this gangly chaotic mess of a teen draped in an old red and black banded shirt and dark pants slunk through the trail. Her heaving breaths condensed in the air before her nose in heavy clouds. Her shoes crunched through the heavy snow. Red droplets sank through the snow as a second trail. Chara watched her progress, especially how her progress faltered when the door behind them slammed shut. The girl sent a forlorn gaze back but continued moving.

The girl stumbled over the sturdy branch Chara and Asriel dragged into the path. The girl nearly fell, but somehow managed to recover enough to keep moving. Now, her thin arms were coiled around her ratty body as the chill of Snowdin crept in.

Chara turned around and slipped out of the trees. As quietly as she could, Chara leaped from the tree line and landed squarely on the branch. It _shattered_. The noise reverberated through the otherwise silent trees. Chara dipped back into the tree line, grinning upon seeing the girl jump so hard she had to have hurt something. Her weird grin was wide enough to show the gold tooth that replaced her first premolar. The girl spun around, her chocolate brown eyes staring at the branch. Her sad look melted into one of horror and _terror_. Oooooh Chara hadn’t seen such a delicious look in a while, not since she and Asriel ganged up on those snow drakes last year.

The girl hesitantly turned and walked more quickly. Her footsteps were longer as, in her haste, her shoes skimmed over more snow. Chara, silent a hunting cougar with a gaze just as sharp, slipped onto the trail and followed. She was sure to make her shoes crunch in the snow just as loud as the girl as she blundered her way through the snow. Again, Chara leapt back in the tree line, a hand over her mouth at the priceless expression on the girl’s face.

The girl turned and bolted down the trail. Chara eagerly followed, staying within the tree line and following a familiar path of roots and rocks that would not betray her presence. Unfortunately for the girl, the trail was interrupted by a pit so deep shadows choked its depths. The only way across–save for the shady tree line–was a wooden bridge. Between the wooden bridge and the girl, however, was a fence with very tightly spaced bars.

The girl rattled the bars, but to no avail. She and Asriel did everything together, including designing and building traps and triggers and barriers that were completely foolproof. They had to be in most cases lest some idiots muck their good work.

Chara chose this time to leave the tree line and stroll toward the girl from behind, not bothering to quiet her steps in the least.

The girl froze. Chara could see the tenseness in her muscles and how her body drew into herself. The girl’s frame expanded and deflated with each quick breath a little too much. Perhaps it was how tight she held herself.

Regardless, Chara took her sweet time and only stopped when she was an armlength away. Chara straightened her back and smiled wider–an expression Asriel had playfully dubbed her “creepy face” when they were little kids. “Human. Don’t you know how to greet a new friend…? Turn around and shake my hand.”

The girl hesitantly turned around, her round, watery eyes meeting Chara’s. The girl paled further were that possible and took a step back. Weird. She… she had quite a bit of resemblance to Chara, barring her pretty brown eyes and olive skin. Chara held out a gloved hand and raised an eyebrow. The girl gulped and looked around. Her pretty brown eyes searched the trees, the trail, the ravine–but there was nothing else there. Chara made _sure_ no one else was there.

Finally, the girl sighed, her shoulders slumped and head down. “Okay.”

Chara blinked. “What?”

“You can kill me.” The girl set a hand on her arm and looked down at her feet. Now that she was closer, Chara could see where gashes lined her thighs and a few cut through her shirt. The work of monsters, definitely. Honestly, the marks were more reminiscent of Sans’ bones than any ghost’s tears or froggit flies. “I can’t fight you.”

Chara’s wide grin dimmed. “Well, it’s no fun if you don’t fight back.”

The girl shrugged hopelessly. “Sorry to disappoint. Again.”

_Dammit._ “Well… whatever.” Chara shrugged and rolled her eyes. “You’re too easy, anyway. Now, are you going to shake my hand or not?”

The girl’s eyes flashed up to meet Chara’s. For a second, the girl didn’t do anything. Eventually, she nodded and reached out to take Chara’s hand. The girl let out a loud, shrill squeal and jumped back. Chara burst into laughter and waved her hand to expose her palm. A joy buzzer–very low voltage–was strapped to the palm of her glove. “Joy buzzer! Gets them every time.”

The girl held onto her hand and glared at Chara with the funniest look of embarrassment and irritation. “Real funny.”

“Thanks. Means a lot coming from you, pretty mirror.” Chara shoved her hand back into her pocket. “Anyway, onto introductions. Humans still do that on the surface, right?”

The girl nodded.

“Greetings. I am Chara–Chara Dreemurr. I’m a sentry here in Snowdin. You are?”

“Frisk. Frisk Fairbairne. I’m… a teenager. Heh. Nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... actually got inspired to write a little bit of Storyfell by [this comic](https://nikomochi.tumblr.com/post/186314704995/old-storyfell-comic) if any of ya'll are interested. I didn't think I'd ever write Storyfell but, well, here we are. lol
> 
> So, I don't think personality swaps are all that fun. UF!Sans is a borderline addict for love and validation, though he would rather kill someone than admit it. He's pretty relaxed on the outside, but nervous and suspicious on the inside. He hides it under a threatening, albeit somewhat chill, demeanor. UF!Papyrus is hardworking, fierce, and WILL achieve his dream of being Captain of the Royal Guard. However, like UT!Papyrus, he still has the cuddly inside and absolutely no will whatsoever to kill and a huge soft spot for his brother and Captain Undyne. Like, he doesn't want Captain Undyne to get hurt or demoted, but he wants to be Captain so???? He says he working hard, but honestly, he's stalling.
> 
> SF!Chara and SF!Asriel are not Sans and Pap. Like her Storyshift counterpart, Chara is curious, admiring of her brother and monsters in general, and kinda likes messing with Frisk. Storyfell Chara is a little ruder and takes things too far quite often with pranks, but never means any lasting harm. Unlike Sans, she doesn't take flak from anyone--especially her brother. She's very blunt about it to most strangers but likes to talk circles around people when she feels like it. SF!Asriel is not like Pap, either. He's hardworking, for a kid, yeah. But he's more merciful on the outside as well as inside, loves to play pranks (though he's naturally less harsh than Chara), and really likes hanging out with Chara. But, as the son of the Captain of the Royal Guard AND the Royal Scientist AS WELL AS being a boss monster, he needs to keep up appearances. So, when he knows he's in public or thinks there might be people around, he acts a lot tougher and harsher than needbe.
> 
> Frisk... changes from AU to AU, which I show via last name.  
-Underfell/Swapfell Frisk: the blind, borderline naive, suicidally depressed, very kind twelve-year-old has the surname of "Foster."  
-Storyfell/Storyshift Frisk: the easily hurt, playful prankster with a warm heart but sharp tongue has the surname of "Fairbairne."  
-Underfell/Swapfell Chara: the rough-and-tumble, tough-shelled, secretly soft-hearted tomboy has the (former) surname of "Carver."  
-Storyfell Chara: somewhat relax if heavily mistrusting of strangers, hardcore prankster, very curious, and playful with the (former) surname "Connor."  
-Storyshift Chara: relaxed, very mistrusting of humans, prankster who knows very well her limits, very curious, and playful with the (former) surname "Cornett."  
-Cameline (Cammie) is Frisk's rough and pessimistic, slightly toxic and narcissistic older sister in every timeline and thus her last name is always the same as Frisk's.  
-Charlie is Chara's pessimistic, dark-hearted, haughty, "cool," morally skewed older brother and thus his last name is always the same as Chara's.  
-Cameline and Charlie will both have the same personalities across all universes unless there are special rules pertaining to them, in which case I'll probably spell their names differently or something, I don't yet know. Also, Frisk and Chara's surnames will always start with "F" and "C" respectively. Because I can. And it's funny.


	2. Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Frisk and Chara have said hello and introduced themselves like proper people, what's next? Movie? Dinner? Meeting a brother that wants to kill a human for their soul?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find it on dA: http://fav.me/ddfimj9

“So, you’re a sentry?” The brown-eyed girl, Frisk, prompted. Her breath condensed a cloud before her nose. Though, as the cold ate at her short-sleeved shirt and her cropped hair did nothing for anything below her shoulders, the heat put into her breaths was a little lighter.

Chara nodded. “Yep. It’s a thrill. Say, my brother should be here any moment. He’s a human hunting _fanatic._ Not too unlike myself.”

Frisk hummed and then grinned. “Oh! So, can I meet him? I mean, if he’s anything like you, he doesn’t sound dangerous.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Chara chuckled. “You’re acting tough for a frail little thing, aren’t you?”

“I can hold my own.” Frisk stood up straight.

“You screamed like a little kid when I broke that branch back there.” Chara jabbed her thumb back to indicate the shattered branch behind them.

Frisk shrugged. “Meh. You got me. But you had atmosphere!” Frisk hesitated. “And, uh… you were here. How’s your brother getting here?”

Chara tipped her head to the trail on the other side of the ravine. “Down there. Say, I did give you a little scare, didn’t I? Here. Let me help you out.” Chara stepped beside Frisk and, producing a key from within her coat pocket, opened the gate and gestured to the bridge. “After you.”

“Er–thanks?” Frisk crossed the bridge quickly. “But, uh… why are you helping me?”

Chara shut the gate behind herself and walked out into the open clearing. Only a few piles of snow, a weirdly human-shaped lamp, and a sentry station occupied the space. “I… hear my brother. Quick! Behind that weirdly shaped lamp.”

Frisk immediately ran to the lamp and hid. Out of the trail ahead in a flurry of snowflakes kicked up from the well-trodden trail came her brother–the coolest, cutest monster in the entire Underground. His head swiveled from side to side as he searched the trail, his deep red eyes leaving every detail scrutinized, his fuzzy, floppy ears smacking him in the face if he moved too quickly. “Chara!” he called, his gaze finding the only human in the vicinity he could see. “There you are! I’ve been looking _all over_ for you! You’re _supposed_ to be at your station!”

Chara looked around. “Uh… this _is_ my station.”

“Well, I mean, yeah!” Asriel shifted and squared his fuzzy shoulders. A thick red sweater with a gold collar covered his torso and most of his arms, while a black and red banded bandana hid any remaining fur on his fuzzy neck. “But… you still haven’t recalibrated your puzzles.” He nodded, regaining the haughty look he had when accusing Chara of laziness.

“Weren’t _you_ supposed to do that?” Chara prompted.

“What are you even doing here?” Asriel puffed.

“Looking at this lamp,” Chara admitted. “Neat, right?”

“Ugh, no!” Asriel stamped his long, fuzzy foot into the snow. “I don’t have time for that! We’re supposed to be on watch for a human. What if one comes through here? We need to be ready! And we can’t be ready if you’re here to playing with a lamp! You can’t cover up your story by saying that first, anyway.”

Chara looked him over. “So, Rei, are you accusing me of… _lamp shading?_”

Asriel snorted and then stamped his foot again. “No! You can’t distract me with your stupid jokes.”

Chara grinned. “You’re smiling!”

“I’m not!” he countered, though his upturned lips blatantly betrayed him.

“You _goat_ to admit, that was a good one.”

“Ugh! I’m going to go attend to my puzzles,” Asriel announced and then hesitated. “As for you…” He grinned. “You should be taking better _Chara-_f your puzzles!” He laughed and ran back down the trail.

Chara smiled and looked to the lamp. “You can come out now.”

Frisk crept out from behind the lamp. She looked down the trail and then at Chara. “That… was your brother?”

“Yep! He’s pretty cool, huh?” Chara chuckled.

“Y-yeah! I-I guess,” Frisk said, her words twisted in a cold-induced stammer.

Chara’s smile fell. She rolled her eyes and walked to her station. She pulled out a sweater and a thermos–one of a few her mother packed her and Asriel each day prior to work–and presented the items to Frisk.

Frisk quickly put on the sweater and took the thermos. “What’s…?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Thanks. But… why?”

“Just drink it.” Chara looked back down the trail to Snowdin.

Frisk took a few tentative sips of the drink. The girl relaxed and her breaths evened out. The bleeding was gone, as were the bruises. Even her shivering and tenseness of her muscles was gone. “Thank you, Chara. Really. This… this means a lot to me.” Frisk smiled, tipping her head a little so that Chara would notice her. Chara indeed turned back to her. She snorted and shook her head. Fluff from long-melted marshmallows ringed her upper lip. Frisk went on, “But, why? You said you and your brother hunted humans.”

“Look it’s… it’s complicated, okay? I know I’m supposed to be hunting you. But…” Chara tipped her head a few times, mulling over a few word choices. “–you’re too pathetic to hunt. It’s like trying to steal candy from a baby. Too easy and babies crying are annoying. Just… just warm up and do as my brother says. He spent a lot of time on those puzzles, you know.”

Frisk smiled at her steaming thermos. Chara now noticed the winged insignia on the red thermos as well as a few cute little fire designs. Oh. Her mom was going to be _pissed_ if that one went missing. “Okay. Thanks. Oh! Sorry, I’m thanking you too much.” Frisk chuckled. “I, uh… better go see what great stuff Asriel made!”

“You better. Or I’ll get you myself, pretty mirror.” Chara winked and strolled into the tree line. Frisk took another drink of the thermos and continued walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but make this a continuation of the first one; a "Chapter 2" if you will. Haha...
> 
> I'm started to get invested in this. Why am I like this? lol


	3. Making History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirkwall has been a breath away from being at war with itself for years. The actions of the Champion and all of her companions has been a driving force of tipping and struggling to keep the balance in the city. But now, the pin upon which balance was kept is cracking. The camel has been overburdened and another straw is drifting down upon it.
> 
> _(Major Dragon Age 2 spoilers)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find it on dA: http://fav.me/de27w7o

Just as the sun’s dying rays kept warm the prison, boots heavy and light, metal and leather, landed on the stone dock. Clouds thickened above them and a far of grumble meandered behind a faint flash of light over the horizon. Four people walked through the metal gates that were reluctantly open and facing the sea. The one in lead, a woman clad in armor soft with fur and missing the chainmail on her arm, looked down at a letter urging her help. Her icy blue eyes gleamed in the dying light and ear-length raven hair flicked in the breeze. Beside her, a contrast to her loose walk and armored body, walked a man in a black coat over buckled robes with plain orange embroidery and raven-feathered pauldrons disturbed by the wind. His orangish brown eyes–darker than his blonde hair held back in a small ponytail–flicked from shadow to shadow, corner to corner, of the courtyard of the mages’ containment unit. On her other side strode a woman proud in her white and orange guard’s uniform, the elvish green shield strapped to her left arm and sword strapped to her hip close to her right arm. She herself found slight interest in their surroundings but worry and caution trailed as her dark gaze found the woman in lead. An orange bandana coiled around her throat and a brownish gold band wrapped around her head and over her loose ponytail. Strolling behind them, mildly interested but deep in thought, strode a dwarf in leather coated, noble-esc clothes. The yellow and brown crossbow he held so dear hugged his back

Until she got to the center of the courtyard, the woman in lead reread the letter for the dozenth time. But, just as she put it away, a robed man rushed to her, eyes wide in terror. “Champion!” he cried, huffing as he came to a stop. “Thank the Maker you’ve come! First Enchanter Orsino got into a terrible argument with the knight commander. He stormed off to bring the matter before the grand cleric, but the knight-commander gave chase. I fear there will be blood!”

Instantly, Hawke said with a weary sigh, “Wonderful. Take me to them.”

Cautious but eager to move, the mage darted to the docks, Hawke, Anders, Captain Aveline, and Varric close to heel. Hawke watched the water slosh at the hull of the ferry. The city grew ever darker as the sun dipped lower and the impenetrable ceiling of clouds flew ever farther above them. Dread fell to the pit of her stomach. As much as she laughed at the danger they found themselves in–rather, she found herself in and somehow dragged her friends into–this was different. There was something off, something she wasn’t being told. Either that or it was her concern over Anders’ more frequent mood swings and heightened paranoia.

Eventually, the ferry docked, and they ran. The streets emptied as they passed, people preparing for the impending rain, or perhaps the impending doom of the templars and mages that started to gather. An elven woman, faint tattoos swirling over her round features, a yellow bandanna half-covering her green robes with brown shoulders, rushed in with a scantily clothed pirate at her side. Merrill tried to speak, but Hawke passed her without a thought and so she and Isabella followed wordlessly. From the shadows, silent as a hunting owl, another elf, his skin crossed by white lines that seemed to produce their own light, hardly covered by the spiky armor he bore, joined them. One set of footsteps defected.

The Circle mage stuck himself to the clay-brick wall of the cramped space as they found their target. Hawke stopped as she found a heavily armored knight, her graying hair hidden beneath a golden tiara and a red hood, standing off against an elven man in layered grayish robes. Knights in silver armor and blue-and-red skirts stood behind the woman, while robed men and women hid beneath their hoods but stood their ground behind the mage.

“I will have the tower searched. Top to bottom!” spat Knight-Commander Meredith, her fierce glare burning into First Enchanter Orsino’s cold green eyes.

The elven man shook his head, his gaze never straying. “You cannot do that. You have no right!”

“I have every right!” she snapped back. “You are harboring blood mages, and I intend to root them out before they infect the city!”

First-Enchanter Orsino rolled his eyes and threw his arms up. “Blood magic!” he puffed. “Where do you not see blood magic? My people cannot sneeze without you accusing them of corruption.”

Knight-Commander Meredith bristled further, were that possible. “Do not trifle with me, mage! My patience is at an end.”

“A wonder that I never saw it begin!” he crossed snidely.

Hawke looked between them with a slight smirk. “The way you two carry on, people will talk.”

Orsino turned his attention to her. Hawke could have sworn he saw a gleam of relief in those pretty eyes. Isabella was right, elves had pretty eyes.

The knight-commander whipped around to face her, nose wrinkled in irritation and contempt. She stalked up to the woman so she was hardly a foot and a half away. Hawke did not flinch. The knight-commander hissed, “This does not involve you, Champion.”

Orsino crossed his arms. “I called her here. I think the people deserve to know just what you’ve done.”

Knight-Commander Meredith spun around to face him. “What I have done is protect the people of this city, time and again.” She glared at him, her words so firm with belief and sincerity matched only by blind fury that Hawke was more than a little surprised. “What I have done is protect you mages from your curse and your own stupidity.”

She turned back to Hawke, her attention snapping back and forth like a cornered lioness. “And I will not stop doing it.” She slammed her fist into her hand. “I will not lower our guard, I dare not!”

Hawke narrowed her eyes. “Does the word ‘crazy’ mean anything to you?”

Then, the air left the knight-commander and her eyes, blue as the angry sea, grew soft. “What other option do we have? Tell me, Champion, that you have not seen with your own eyes what they can do, heard the lies of mages that seek power!”

Now irritation goaded her heart into beating faster. The Champion could recall the knight-commander’s words weeks ago, she could recall her slamming Leandra’s death in her face like a master would punish her naughty puppy. “They’re not the only ones that lie and seek power.”

First-Enchanter Orsino stalked forward. “You would cast us all as villains, but it is not true!” He stopped by the knight-commander’s side so close she could elbow him without trying.

The woman’s defeated gaze turned to the angered mage. “I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must be vigilant.” Her resolve returned and she stood straight and tall. “If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!”

The first enchanter shook his head as if shooing a bothersome fly. “This is getting us nowhere. Grand Cleric Elthina will put a stop to this.” The man turned and walked to the steps that would lead him to High Town, to the Chantry.

With a furious hiss, Knight-Commander Meredith snatched the back of his shoulder and pulled him back so he faced her. “You will _not_ bring her Grace into this!”

“The grand cleric cannot help you!”

They turned to face the newest member to the quarrel. Anders, gripping his staff so hard his knuckles turned white, stalked forward. He stopped a few feet away from the Champion, much farther away than the quarreling people in charge. Still, he refused to look at Hawke.

Knight-Commander Meredith let go of the First Enchanter and stalked toward him. “Explain yourself, mage.”

Anders faced her, calm and brave, just as Hawke knew him to be. Though… he was never _calm_ around the Knight-Commander. He was never calm around any templars, especially of late. The sinking feeling the Champion felt only got worse as warning bells went off in her head. Those were so common, of late, she nearly felt them as the theme of her subconscious.

He stated, “I will not stand by and watch you treat all mages like criminals–” He turned to the First Enchanter. “–while those who would lead us bow to their templar jailors.”

First Enchanter Orsino bristled. “How dare you speak to–”

“The Circle has failed us, Orsino!” Anders spat, his voice growing deeper with the all too familiar voice of his spirit counter. His irises glowed a fierce baby blue and veins flared in the same light. She could see the glow even beneath his layered clothes. Hawke’s blood went cold. “Even you should be able to see that!” He shut his eyes tight and his voice leveled, and Justice’s flare died. His looked away. He turned around, walking a few paces away before halting himself. He looked past the men and women he traveled with, talked with, argued with, the ones he healed and who defended him. “The time has come to act. There can be no half-measures.”

Hawke found her voice, staring at the man she’d come to love. “Anders, what have you done?” she breathed. _Maker, no. Please let this be a bad dream. Please don’t let him do something rash._

He turned away so his back faced her completely. “There can be no turning back.”

She started to speak when a low rumble interrupted them. The rumble swiftly got louder and the very earth trembled. A high-pitched whine stung their ears and red light glared. All eyes raised toward the peak of their town. A beam of red glowing with a light so harsh its center was white erupted through the center of the chantry. Stone and wood and shingles burst and some vaporized instantly. The laser burned into the angry clouds that blocked the full moon. Then, more lasers broke through the building. One, three, six, eight, a dozen beams of light penetrated the sky, searing the clouds. Gravity gave up and broken pieces of the ancient building defected and swirled up. Stone and brick and wood and everything not nailed to the ground–and most everything that was–rose up and clumped. Statues too tall and heavy to move that flanked the entrance to the cathedral toppled over the stairs.

The light exploded, throwing debris clear over the town that slumped over the hill and slithered into the sea.

They watched in shock, horror, as cinders and flaming debris rained over them. Templars and mages alike shifted and looked around and watched their leaders. Hawke’s eyes burned in the light, but even as it faded, she couldn’t look away.

“Maker have mercy,” First Enchanter Orsino breathed, his gaze slowly falling on Knight-Commander Meredith. The woman stared, lips pursed and eyes round as if preparing to cry or scream or both.

Then Anders’ voice, calm as the drifting cinders, piped up beside Hawke, “There can be no peace.” She turned her gaze on the man who watched his work. There was no pride or fear. There was only resolve and sadness.

“Elthina!” Sebastian emotion-clotted, strangled cry rose up as he slumped to his knees, watching the scene unfold. “No! Maker, no! She was Your most faithful, Your most beloved…” His head bowed and gleaming eyes shut. “Why didn’t she listen to me?” Then, his eyes opened, and he stood up, his face hard in resolve. Soon, even that crumbled, and he reached his hand out. “Blessed be the souls of the faithful that they ascent to Your right hand…”

First Enchanter Orsino turned to Anders, who faced him right back. “Why?” the elven mage wheezed. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“I removed the chance of compromise, because there _is_ no comprise.”

_How was that man so calm?!_

Then, the Knight-Commander spoke, her eyes staring into nothingness, her voice nearly as blank as a Tranquil mage’s. “The grand cleric has been slain by magic, the chantry destroyed.” She turned to face them, and the righteous anger returned. “As Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment. Every mage in the Circle is to be executed–immediately.”

The First Enchanter turned to the Champion, desperation in his wide eyes. “The Circle didn’t even do this! Champion, you can’t let her! Help us stop this madness!”

The Knight-Commander cut in, “And I demand you stand with us! Even you must see that this outrage cannot be tolerated.”

Sebastian interrupted, “Why are we debating the Right of Annulment when the monster who did this is right here?” His face contorted into one of hate. “I swear to you, I will kill him!”

The automatic need to get between them nearly overwhelmed Hawke. Anders stayed calm and Sebastian vibrated with hatred. Anders turned to Hawke. “It can’t be stopped now. You have to choose.”

“Was that…” Hawke’s voice came out hoarse, but energy soon returned to her in a fervor. “–why you needed me to distract the grand cleric?”

Sebastian turned his glare on her. “You were… part of this?”

The mage she loved said, “If you knew what I was doing, you would have felt honor-bound to stop me. I couldn’t take that chance. The Circle is an injustice–” Hawke tensed at the word. _Justice._ Of _course_ it was the demon couldn’t fathom mercy. “–in many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see.”

The former prince spat, “Elthina is not the Circle! She was a good woman, and you murdered her!”

“You fool!” First Enchanter Orsino cut in. “You’ve doomed us all!”

Ander turned his gaze back to him but did not move. “We were already doomed. A quick death now or a slow one later–I’d rather die fighting.”

Hawke shook her head. This was a nightmare, it had to be. It wasn’t a nightmare about her mother or siblings dying. It wasn’t her mistakes with her loved ones, it wasn’t her father’s passing. It was her fears of losing yet another person in her life. The fear of losing the last man she could claim she loved who stuck with her and whom she kept close, almost obsessively so. So why wasn’t she waking up?

The Champion waved her arm at him, trying to point, to push him away despite not being close, to feel the chill air on her bare arm. She wasn’t asleep. This anger that bubbled out of the open wounds and broken scars in her heart refused to let her entertain the thought any longer. “You’re a murderer. The grand cleric, the mages… their blood is on your hands!”

“I know.”

She remembered a time when no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t feel mad at him for long. _Maker’s breath._

Knight-Commander Meredith announced, “It doesn’t matter. Even if I wished to, I could not stay my hand. The people will demand blood.”

Hawke’s answer was instantaneous as she turned to the First Enchanter. “This won’t be easy, but I’ll defend you.”

Sebastian asked, “But what of Anders?”

Captain Aveline spoke, “Hawke, if you do this, I don’t know if I can follow.”

Fenris stated, “The mages here would become magisters, if they could. Do not let them.”

Varric shrugged. “You sure about this? Even you might not win this fight.”

Merrill nodded confidently, eyes round and eyebrows wrinkled, her voice unshaken. “I know we can do this. I believe in you, Hawke.”

Isabella bowed her head with a sigh. “Shit. What have you gotten yourself into this time, Isabella?”

Knight-Commander Meredith glared at Hawke. “Think carefully, Champion. Stand with them and you share their fate.”

Hawke stated, “I can live with that.”

First Enchanter Orsino exhaled. “Thank the Maker!”

Fenris gave her a small nod. “It is a mistake, but I won’t abandon you.”

Captain Aveline let out a small sigh. “I see what you are trying to do, and my place… is with you.”

Knight-Commander Meredith growled, “You are a fool, Champion.” She raised her voice to a yell. “Kill them all! I will rouse the rest of the Order!” With that, she ran.

First Enchanter Orsino turned to the mages gathered. “Go! Get to the Gallows before it’s too late!” His charges bolted.

The templars unsheathed their weapons. Without a thought, Hawke swept her gem-topped staff, the key her father once wielded, toward the aggressors. Ice spikes flared from the earth, frosting and damaging armor and cutting skin. She was hardly aware of those others that had followed her through thick and thin bracing for battle and joining her. At one point in time, all Hawke knew was healing, was aid. Healing and aid she started to learn from her elemental father but honed drastically with her time at Anders’ clinic. Now, a fireball burst from her staff and exploded in their aggressor’s ranks.

As the last templar fell from a knife in his back–a kill Isabella could probably claim–they relaxed from their aggressive stances. Anders sat down on a crate, his back facing them. First Enchanter Orsino sent a morose look at the last fallen templar. “So, it’s come to this.” He turned to the Champion. “I don’t know if we can win this war, Champion, but… thank you.” He sent a foul glare at Anders. “I will leave your… _friend–_” he somehow turned the word into an insult, “-for you to deal with. I must return to the Gallows. Meet me there as soon as you can.” He left.

Hawke swallowed and strolled around so she stood behind Anders. She could not face him, not now. Not so angry and betrayed as she was.

Immediately, he said, “There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already said to myself.” _Is that a challenge?_ “I took a spirit into my soul and changed myself forever to achieve this. This is the justice all mages have awaited.”

_Justice._ “Did that spirit–” was Justice still a spirit? “–tell you to do this?”

“No. When we merged, he ceased to be. We are one now. I can no more ignore the injustice of the Circle than he could.”

“I might have understood, if you told me.” She was grasping at straws, this she knew, at the echoes of optimism she desperately clung to on a daily basis.

Sebastian couldn’t help but interject, “You condone this? The brutal death of a woman of faith? Someone you knew! Who trusted you!”

Hawke glanced back at him but did not speak. _I didn’t say that._

“I wanted to tell you,” Anders admitted. “But what if you stopped me? Or worse, what if you wanted to help? I couldn’t let you do that. The world needs to see this. Then we can all stop pretending the Circle is a solution. And if I pay for that with my life… then I pay. Perhaps then Justice would at least be free.” There was a high note in the end… a shadow of hope.

Maker she couldn’t do this, not again. Carver died by her hand. But Carver was in pain and his affliction was permanent. Anders was suffering, too, and what plagued him was just as permanent and unmerciful. But…

Hawke turned to her companions. “Opinions?”

Sebastian burst out, “If I’d been in that chantry today, would you be waffling? You know what must be done!”

Isabella chimed in, “Bold plan. Well, I thought so.”

Fenris was the next to answer, though Hawke already knew what he had to say. “He wants to die. Kill him and be done with it.”

Captain Aveline stood straight and tall. “Belief is no excuse. Sincerity does not justify… this.”

Merrill looked around. “He should come with us. Do what he can to put things right.”

Varric sighed. “I’m sick of mages and templars.”

Anders stated, his voice a little firmer and swifter, “Whatever you do, just do it.”

Hawke took a deep breath. Well, she already did a lot of things she regretted. Her life couldn’t get much worse than this. Still, her morals bit at her like hungry hounds. Anders needed to die. He wanted to die. He _should_ die. Any sane person with an ounce of respect toward innocent life could see this. But… “Help me defend the mages.”

Anders jolted. “You mean…” He stood up to face her, bewildered. “–stay with you?”

_I didn’t say that._

“I didn’t think you’d let me. But if you do… I’ll fight the templars. Damned right I will.”

“No!” Sebastian barked and stalked toward them. Hawke spun around and took an automatic step to side, half-hiding the mage. “You cannot let this abomination walk free. He dies, or I am returning to Starkhaven.” He voice deepened to a growl. “And I will bring such an army with me on my return that there’ll be nothing left of Kirkwall for these maleficarum to rule!”

Hawke stood up straight and suddenly, as if his words were the thundering storm above an ash-choked forest, all her doubts were washed away. “Do not interfere, Sebastian.”

The man before her shook his head. “I thought I knew you, Hawke.” He glared away, perhaps at Anders, perhaps at the decrepit wall near them. “I gave up on Starkhaven to serve the Maker, but He has turned His back on Kirkwall for harboring heretics like this.” He glowered at Hawke. “I swear to you, I will come back and find your precious Anders, I will teach him what true justice is!” With that, he turned and stalked away, his fists shaking, shining armor dull in the shadow.

Hawke watched him go. Of course he would gather an army to destroy this place rather than face her himself. She would gladly duel him–Isabella taught her how good a solution that was.

Ander said, “Thank you for my life. I’ll try not to make such a mess of it this time.”

Isabella stated, “How invigorating!” Hawke could not decipher her tone.

Varric chimed in, “We’d all best get to the Gallows, and quick. It’s going to be quite a show.”

Hawke took a deep breath. Okay, solution time. She couldn’t wallow in indecision, now. She needed to focus. “Anders, Aveline, Isabella, come with me; we’ll make a path to the docks.” She ran off without another word. If anyone wanted to complain, they didn’t make it known.

“Just to be clear, Anders,” Aveline chipped in. “–when this is over, you will turn yourself in for your crime.”

“I’m well aware of your commitment to oppression,” he scoffed.

Oh, Maker give Hawke strength so she did not turn around and smack him with his own staff.

“The laws of the land,” Captain Aveline stated simply. “Fairly applied to everyone.”

“That…” Anders started and then softened his tone. “–is actually something I would very much like to see.”

Fire spat and lunged up into the air. It devoured anything and everything it touched. Hawke stopped multiple times to keep from running straight into burning, spitting blockages in their path. Hawke flew down a set of stairs, fiercely splitting her attention between keeping balance and going as fast as her body would allow. The sound of metal boots clanking against the stone alerted her and she stopped, leading her companions to do the same.

Around the corner, they spotted three templars backing a young mage against the spiked wall separating her from the frothing ocean below. She whimpered as she searched desperately for an escape. One templar demanded, “Stop right there!”

The mage crossed, her voice shaking, “Leave me alone! I never asked for any of this!” Her heel pressed against the spiked fence.

“The law is clear, mage. We cannot take the risk,” the templar in lead stated.

“Keep away from me!” she yelled, bristling and shivering. “I’m warning you!”

But the templars did not back off. They did not stop. They pressed forward, their armored bodies and long swords and wide shields blocking any hope of escaping. The woman shut her eyes and doubled over. Purple, glowing mist frothed over her, escaping her pores and rolling over her clothes. Her body morphed, fingers turning to talons, skin blistering and swelling as if burned.

“Kill it!” the templar cried. “Kill it now!”

The abomination, now knowing no fear, charged at the men. Shades crawled out of the ground to come to her–its–aid. More templars arrived, alerted by the distressed cry of their fellow.

It was a battle they so sorely wanted. It was a battle they were going to get.

Hawke was confused in the thick of the fighting. As Aveline screamed a challenge at a cluster of shades another few templars attacked. Anders froze a few of the religious knights while Isabella cut through a chink in one’s armor.

It was not a fight she would have expected, Hawke reminisced as her staff clanged against the helmet of an advancing templar. A rage demon ripped itself from the earth behind her and roared a challenge. She ducked out of the way and the knight and demon abandoned her for each other.

Hawke struck down the thing that was once a terrified young woman.

Behind her, Anders let out a _scream_ as a blade cut deep into him. The offending knight threw the man down with his shield. Right. He was going to be a beacon for the mage hunters.

Before the templar could stomp on the man or deliver a fatal blow, the templar staggered to the side. Captain Aveline charged into him, her shield up to stay between him and herself. Hawke waved her hand and suddenly she was enveloped in warmth. A blue spectral spiral so unlike the purple mist curled around her legs and reached her waist. She rushed to Anders’ aid and waved her hand over him. His shaking subsided and he coughed. “Thanks. That was close.” He looked up at her, but she was already gone.

Isabella sliced deep into a rage demon’s back as Anders threw one last frost spell at it. The thing roared and collapsed, pawing at the ground as it sunk beneath the stone.

Hawke stayed by Captain Aveline’s side long enough to heal a gash in her shoulder while Anders was by Isabella’s to fix a burn on her leg. Then, they were running to the Gallows, rushing around obstacles. A cluster of abominations flocked to a desire demon like moths to a flame.

Hawk waved her hand and the warm feeling went away. Instead, she focused on her fire and ice. Isabella and Aveline rushed past her, Captain Aveline yelling a taunt and Isabella darting in and out of harm’s way. Hawke was acutely aware of the mage beside her and the bolts of magic that whisked past her. However, she daren’t lose her focus. _Captain Aveline was drawing their attention, switching between hiding behind her shield and lashing out with her sword. Isabella dipped and dodged and delivered quick blows. Hawke needed to be sure of her safety the most. Anders stayed on the offensive, but she knew he looked between the two fighters for grievous injuries. He had taught Hawke well._

So, she stood back into the defensive, striking with her staff but concentrating mostly on keeping her friends alive. The warmth she felt as she leaned on the Fade’s inhabitants for aid came back to her. Was this what Anders felt, at least before their merge? Calm and safe in the sanctity of a spirit’s wisdom and power? He had admitted Justice was a harsh spirit, so perhaps not.

As the last of them fell and Anders helped Isabella, Hawke cursed at the dead end she led them into.

A group of templars threatened more mages, though they were in a group this time. Hawke started forward but stopped and looked back. Anders darted ahead of her and, before he even truly stopped moving, summoned a firestorm. The mages ran back to avoid the rebel’s wrath, but the templars weren’t so lucky. A fireball in their midst and Hawke’s ability to turn the very air into a force enough to knock them back stopped them. There was not much left to do after that. Though reinforcements arrived, they were no match for the bolstered mages, the Champion, Captain of the Guard, pirate captain, or leader of the mage rebellion.

Hawke glanced at the entrance to the alienage. After confirming it was blocked off, she turned and darted down the stairs into the docks. Immediately, they saw the statue of a person in armor holding a flaming sword. Dead bodies littered the ground. A mage knelt before the statue in prayer. As they neared, she jumped to her feet and spun around. Shades slipped out of the ground at her command, surrounding the four people.

_What have they done?_

The battle was long and fierce. A demon of pride joined the fight, hissing in glee as it stomped and swiped and threw magic of its own. Hawke stayed as close as she dared to Aveline and Isabella as they lashed at the same demons as a team. Wounds crossed their flesh, but Hawke’s magic gently, slowly, stopped the bleeding and repaired the wounds. Though, with how little time it took for the swarming monsters to close in and attack all at once, she needed to keep her attention on them.

More shades appeared. The blood mage responsible forced more the monsters into their world. She spun magic with a power Hawke knew was powered by her own blood–or the blood of the corpses scattered around them.

Eventually, the throws of battle subsided, and they ran to the ferry. The screams of war, shouts of fear and hate, cries for mercy or yells in victory echoed over the water. Clangs of steal, fiery explosions of magic, and ticking of arrows against stone faded as they swam over the water.

Hawke looked back. Isabella sat, shifting and looking ahead and glancing at Hawke. Anders stood at the edge, so close he could almost fall. Aveline stayed rooted near the middle, tense as she prepared to take off the instant the boat stopped. Indeed, the boat was hardly at a stop when Hawke forced down the plank and they rushed into the Gallows.

Blood.

Blood spattered the ground. Bodies–armored and robed–scattered over the courtyard like children’s toys.

“Hurry! Hurry!” First Enchanter Orsino commanded, standing at the top of the steps above the courtyard. Surviving mages darted out the courtyard, fleeing behind their leader as the man waved his staff. Fire flared and knocked one charging templar back. Orsino pushed the air before him. The second templar was tossed, screaming, into the air. He landed heavily beside Hawke. The man did not get up. She did not need to inspect him to know his neck was broken.

The Champion called as she approached, “First Enchanter!”

First Enchanter Orsino’s attention snapped to her. “Champion! You’ve survived, thank the Maker! We must–”

“And here you are.” Knight-Commander Meredith’s cold voice rang over the courtyard.

First Enchanter Orsino squared his shoulders. “Let us speak, Meredith! Before this battle destroys the city you claim to protect!”

Knight-Commander Meredith stopped, her army behind her, Knight-Captain Cullen at her right. “I will entertain a surrender, nothing more. Speak, if you have something to say.”

First Enchanter Orsino climbed down the steps, though he stopped well before the templar’s lead. “Revoke the Right of Annulment, Meredith, before this goes too far. Lock us up, search the tower, I will even help you. But do not kill us all for an act we did not commit.”

“The grand cleric is dead,” the knight-commander stated. “–killed by magic. The people will demand retribution, and I will give it to them.” She shook her head. “Your offer is commendable, Orsino, but it comes too late.”

Hawke tried, putting as much of her dwindling optimism into her words as she could, “I was kind of hoping for a happy ending.”

First Enchanter Orsino sighed. “I doubt we will be seeing that.”

Knight-Commander Meredith puffed. “I suppose I should have expected no less from you, Champion.” Her eyes narrowed. “So be it. You share the Circle’s fate.”

First Enchanter Orsino spoke, his voice laced with despair. “What is it to be, Meredith? Do we fight here?”

“Go, prepare your people. The rest of the Order is already crossing the harbor.”

“This isn’t over!”

With that, the First Enchanter led them all inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it took me a little while, but I grew to understand and respect Anders' actions to the point where I support him. Now, the death of hundreds is bad, but what he did was necessary. More on that on my multiple essays on Reddit or this comment section if you truly want to get into it! Haha... hah... ha.
> 
> Anyhoo, I was planning for the LONGEST time to write about classic Gaster and his invention. I thought it would be a sweet irony; he made history by creating the CORE, but he was lost to history as falling into his creation erased him from existence. Unfortunately, despite it being years, I still haven't been able to write it. So, having some Anders instead. Oh, right, and Hawke and everyone else. Dragon Age is such a fun game series, and honestly Dragon Age 2 may be my favorite.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates whenever. Literally 100 themes, and I got college during the week, so won't be made overnight. lol But these prompts are super interesting! :D


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